


To The Cold Embrace We Enter Willingly

by alicecrow6



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Ages are screwy, Angst, Bette Kane is Batwoman, Damian Wayne is Batman, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 05:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30033684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicecrow6/pseuds/alicecrow6
Summary: Damian's a Batman to a thriving Gotham. No apocalypse, no deals with devils, no decimated cities.Sometimes Damian wonders if his feelings would make more sense if he was the Batman to a dead world instead.At least then the rest of the world would share his grief.
Relationships: Alfred the Cat & Damian Wayne, Bette Kane & Damian Wayne, Carrie Kelley & Damian Wayne, Terry McGinnis & Damian Wayne, Tiffany Fox & Damian Wayne
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	To The Cold Embrace We Enter Willingly

Bette sat on his couch, her eyes boring into his skull as she attempted to bust his brain open with only her stare.

Damian stuck out his tongue at her, a childish action but one he felt was warranted.

Bette blinked in surprise before sticking her tongue out right back at him.

This continued for a few seconds, the two of them trying to outdo each other with increasingly ridiculous faces.

Finally, it came to an end when the clock rang, startling both of them out of their competition.

The clock ticked away and Damian was suddenly reminded of why they were together in the first place.

“Would you like some tea?” Damian asks, remembering how Alfred had always been firm that if bad news was to be discussed you should always have tea on hand to warm you right back up.

Alfred was gone now but Damian was still around and so he would endeavor to do as the older man used to urge.

“Yes please,” Bette says softly. Damian gets up and turns the kettle on, he starts arranging some teacups and takes out two tea bags.

The two wait in silence as the water heats, neither willing to break the atmosphere they had unknowingly built.

When the preparations are finally ready Damian carefully pours the water into the cups and puts in the tea bags. He puts it all in a tray and carries it over. He settles it down onto the table and Bette grabs her teacup. She clutches it in her hands, her grip tightening and her fingertips turning white as she holds the cup like it was a lifeline. She takes a small sip and Damian knows that he can't procrastinate any longer.

“Have they found her body?” Damian asks carefully, well aware of how careful he needs to be to not set Bette off.

Bette closes her eyes, her breath hitching slightly as she brings her teacup to her mouth to hide it. She takes a long sip before finally opening her eyes again.

“Not yet, the police suspect that it might have drifted off out of the harbor,” Bette tells him, her lips tightening at every word that comes out of her mouth.

“Fools,” Damian spits out, breath ragged and rageful. Bette snorts in agreement and Damian knows that at least at that moment they were in complete unity.

The two sit, a hushed stillness overtaking them as they barely breathe. The atmosphere was heavy, like if they made one rushed move they might break it into a million pieces, impaling themselves onto the broken shards and bleeding into their tea.

Suddenly Damian didn't feel like finishing his drink.

He brought up his cup and took a sip. Bette stared into her cup, her hand shaking slightly.

The clock ticked on behind them.

Tick 

Tick

Tick

Tick

Tick

Tick

Tick

Tick

“I know you can help me find her body,” Bette says suddenly.

Damian doesn't bother trying to pretend he doesn't know what she meant.

“I will find her body,” Damian nods in agreement.

“No that not- that not what I meant,” Bette stuttered, her breath picking up. She puts the teacup down, the cup clacking against the saucer.

“I’m not entirely sure what you were trying to say,” Damian tells her, lying.

“I want to carry on her legacy, Damian. I need to carry on her legacy,” Bette’s words stumble out of her mouth, rushed and clumsy. 

“No, you need to stay safe,” Damian says, barely looking up from the table. Its cloth was white, a laced pattern going all around it. Better to focus on the table cloth than on the fact that his cousin wanted to stupidly endanger herself right after their aunt died.

“Don't give me that bullshit! My aunt is dead! Kate is dead! And you think I’m about to hide out and pretend like nothing's wrong in the world?” Damian finally lifts his eyes up from the table. He looks Bette in the face and is greeted with the sight of her red-rimmed glare.

“It’s what Kate would have preferred,” Damian tries to explain, feeling trapped and far too deeply examined.

“No, it’s what you would prefer. I’m not stupid Wayne, I know damn well that you’ve been keeping watch of me. Want to make sure your last bit of family’s safe right?” Bette’s words are mocking, her smile was far too cruel to sit naturally on her kind face.

“I don't know what you want me to say,” Damian tells her, leaning back onto the couch.

“I want you to agree with me! I want you to help me! I can't- I can't just let this go, Damian. Surely you of all people know what it’s like to want to uphold a legacy?” and there it was, her grand argument. It was expected really. Damian had had this conversation a million times in his head already and it almost always came back to this point.

There were many ways to counter it, many ways to shoot back his own shots.

Instead, Damian knows he’s not going to do anything other than agree.

Maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn't think he could live another day without knowing that somewhere in Gotham was another Bat ready to take up the cause.

For so long he only had Kate, and then Kate died too.

So here stood Bette, strong, capable Bette, ready to bear their family’s symbol upon her chest. And Damian? Damian couldn't help but want to agree.

He was Batman, he was the savior of Gotham, but sometimes (all the time) the weight atop his shoulders crushed him beneath its heel.

Damian stood up, Bette leaned back at the sudden movement. Damian stared her down and watched as she leaned over the table to glare him into submission.

Damian felt a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Your training will start tomorrow, don't bother bringing anything with you,” Damian turned around without another word, trusting her to know her own way out.

He had a suit to design after all.


End file.
